When the party broke up, O'Neil and O'Sullivan, as usual, came in
for a quiet chat to Desmond's room.
"As we may be possibly ordered to Spain," Kennedy said, "I should
like to know a little about what we are going to fight about; for,
although I know a good deal about the war in Flanders, no news
about that in Spain ever reached Kilkargan."
"Well, you know, of course," O'Neil said, "that Philip the Fifth
is a grandson of Louis; and is naturally supported by France
against the Archduke Charles of Austria, who is competitor for the
throne, and who is, of course, supported by England. Six thousand
English and Dutch troops were sent to aid the Archduke Charles in
his attempt to invade Spain and dethrone Philip. The King of
Portugal, who is a member of the allied confederacy, promised to
have everything ready to cooperate with them. They found, however,
on their arrival, that no preparations had been made, and they
were accordingly distributed, for a time, among the garrisons on
the frontier.
"Philip, on his part, had not been so inactive, and two
armies--the one commanded by the Duke of Berwick, and the other by
General Villadarias--invaded Portugal. Berwick surprised and
captured two Dutch battalions, and then captured Portalagre, and
compelled the garrison, including an English regiment of infantry,
to surrender.
"The allies, to make a diversion, sent General Das Minas into
Spain, with fifteen thousand men, who captured one or two towns
and defeated a body of French and Spanish troops. The hot weather
now set in, and put a stop to hostilities, and the troops on both
sides went into quarters. The general--I forget his name--who
commanded the English and Dutch contingent, was so disgusted with
the proceedings of the Portuguese that he resigned his command,
and the Earl of Galway was appointed in his place. The next year
he crossed the frontier, captured several towns, without much
fighting, and invested Badajos. Here, however, a stern resistance
was met with. Galway's hand was carried off by a shot, and the
French general (Tesse) coming up in force to the relief of the
town, and the Portuguese not arriving at all, the allies were
obliged to fall back upon Portugal. But Philip was threatened from
a fresh quarter.
"In June, the Earl of Peterborough sailed from Portsmouth with
five thousand men, and at Lisbon took on board the Archduke
Charles. At Gibraltar some more troops were embarked, and
Peterborough set sail for the coast of Valencia. Peterborough
himself, one of the most daring of men, and possessed of
extraordinary military talent, was in favour of a march upon
Madrid; but, fortunately for us, he was overruled, and commenced
the siege of Barcelona--a strong town garrisoned by five thousand
good troops, while he himself had but a thousand more under his
command. Nevertheless, by a sudden and daring attack he captured
the strong castle of Montjuich, which commanded the town, which
was in consequence obliged to surrender four days later, and the
whole of Catalonia was then captured. Saint Matteo, ninety miles
from Barcelona, which had declared for Charles and was besieged by
a large force, was relieved; and so brilliant were the exploits
accomplished by Peterborough, with most inadequate means, that the
Spaniards came to the conclusion that he was possessed by an evil
spirit.
"Large reinforcements were sent from France, and King Philip
advanced upon Barcelona, and invested it by land, while a French
fleet bombarded it by sea. Peterborough hurried, with a small
force from Valencia, to aid the besieged, the matter being all the
more important since Charles himself was in the city. Before his
arrival, however, an English fleet appeared, and our fleet
retired.
"Philip at once raised the siege, and retired to Madrid. His
position was indeed serious. Lord Galway was advancing from the
frontier, and Peterborough had gathered a force to cooperate with
him. Upon the approach of Galway, Philip and the Duke of Berwick
retreated to the frontier. There they received great reinforcements,
and advanced against Madrid, which was evacuated by Galway, who
marched away to form a junction with Lord Peterborough.
"Owing to the dilatory habits and hesitation of the Austrian
prince, the junction was not effected for some time, and then, in
spite of the entreaties of the two English generals, he could not
be persuaded to make a movement towards Madrid. Peterborough,
whose temper was extremely fiery, at last lost all patience,
abused Charles openly, and then, mounting his horse, rode down to
the coast, embarked upon an English ship of war, and sailed away
to assist the Duke of Savoy. After his departure, the ill feeling
between the English force, the Portuguese, and the leaders of the
Spanish adherents of Charles increased, and they spent their time
in quarrelling among themselves. They were without money,
magazines, and almost without provisions. Berwick was near them
with a superior force, and they took the only step open, of
retreating towards Valencia, which they reached, after suffering
great hardships, before Berwick could overtake them.
"French troops were poured into Spain, while no reinforcements
were sent from England. Galway and the Portuguese advanced to meet
the Duke of Berwick, who was marching with a large army to occupy
Catalonia.
"The two forces met, on the plain of Almanza, on the 24th of
April. We and the Spaniards were superior in number to the
English, Dutch, and Portuguese. The battle was maintained for six
hours. The Portuguese infantry did little, but the English and
Dutch repulsed charge after charge, even after the Portuguese and
Spanish allies on both wings were defeated. But, in the end,
victory remained with us. Galway and Das Minas, the Portuguese
general, were both wounded, and five thousand of their men killed,
and yet the Dutch and English infantry held together.
"But on the following day, being absolutely without supplies, some
effected their escape and succeeded in reaching Portugal, while
the main body surrendered. Valencia, Saragossa, and other towns
opened their gates to us, and, for a time, the cause of the
Archduke Charles seemed lost.
"Our success was, however, balanced by the loss, in the same year,
of the whole of the Spanish possessions in Italy. As yet, in spite
of the disasters that had befallen him, the cause of Charles was
not altogether lost, for he received fresh promises of support
from England, whose interest it was to continue the war in Spain,
and thus compel France to keep a considerable body of troops
there, instead of employing them against Marlborough in Flanders.
"Galway and Das Minas were taken back to Portugal, in an English
fleet, after their disaster, and General Stanhope, who, they say,
is an officer of great military experience and talent, has been
sent out to take the command; and as a portion of Catalonia is
still held for Charles, there may yet be a good deal of hard
fighting, before the matter can be considered finally settled."
"Thank you, O'Neil. I feel that I know something about it, now.
Are there any of our regiments there?"
"Yes, three of them. There is also an Irish regiment in the
Spanish service, under Colonel Crofton;" and with this, the talk
ended for the night.
After three months' work Desmond was dismissed from drill, and had
obtained such a proficiency with the rapier that he felt that he
could now relax his work, and see something of the city, which he
had been hitherto too busy to explore. He had seen the principal
streets, in the company of his comrades, had admired the mansions
of the nobles, the richness of the goods exposed to view in the
windows, and the gaiety and magnificence of the dresses of the
upper class. His friends had warned him that, if he intended to go
farther, he should never do so alone, but should take with him his
soldier servant, a trooper named Mike Callaghan.
Mike was some twenty-eight years old, strong and bony; his hair
was red, and the natural colour of his face was obscured by a host
of freckles; his eyes were blue, and his nose had an upward turn;
his expression was merry and good humoured, but there was a
twinkle about his eyes that seemed to show that he was by no means
wanting in shrewdness.
"Even in the daytime," O'Neil said, "it is not safe for a man, if
well dressed and likely to carry money in his pocket, to go into
some quarters of the town. Paris has always been a turbulent city,
and, while it is the abode of the richest and noblest of
Frenchmen, it is also the resort of the rascaldom of all France.
Some streets are such that even the city guard would not venture
to search for an ill doer, unless in considerable force and
prepared for battle. There are, of course, many streets, both on
this and the other side of the river, where life and property are
as safe as in the Rue Royal; which, by the way, is not saying
much, for it was only three days ago that a man was assassinated
there in broad daylight. He was a captain in the Picardy regiment,
and it was supposed that his murderer was a man who had been
dismissed from the regiment with ignominy. But, whoever it was, he
has got clear away, for your Parisian citizen takes good care not
to interfere in such matters, and no one thought of laying hands
on the villain, although it is said he walked quietly off.
"It is in the streets that I am speaking of that adventures may
most easily be met with. Here there are too many hotels of the
nobles, with their numerous retainers, for it to be safe to commit
crime, and the city guard are generally on the alert, for, were
harm to come to one of the gentlemen attached to the great houses,
the matter would be represented to the king, and the city
authorities would come in for a sharp reproof for their failure to
keep order in the city; whereas, anything that happens among the
bourgeois would pass wholly without notice. However, if you keep
out of the wine shops, you are not likely to become involved in
trouble. Nine-tenths of the quarrels and tumults originate there.
There is a dispute, perhaps, between a soldier and a citizen, or
between soldiers of different regiments, and in a minute or two
twenty swords are drawn, and the disturbance grows, sometimes,
until it is necessary to call out troops from the nearest barracks
to suppress it. However, I know that you are not likely to get
into trouble that way, for you are a very model of moderation, to
the corps."
"I have seen enough of the consequences of drink in Ireland,"
Desmond said, "to cure me of any desire for liquor, even had I a
love for it. Faction fights, involving the people of the whole
barony, arising from some drunken brawl, are common enough; while
among the better class duels are common and, for the most part,
are the result of some foolish quarrel between two men heated by
wine. Besides, even putting that aside, I should have given up the
habit. When I joined the regiment, I was anxious to become a good
swordsman, but if one's head is overheated at night, one's hand
would be unsteady and one's nerves shaken in the morning.
"Possibly," he added, with a smile, "it is this, quite as much as
the hotness of their temper, that prevents the best teachers from
caring to undertake the tuition of the officers of the Brigade."
"Possibly," Phelim laughed, "though I never thought of it before.
There is no doubt that the French, who, whatever their faults be,
are far less given to exceeding a fair allowance of wine than are
our countrymen, would come to their morning lessons in the saloon
in a better condition to profit by the advice of the master than
many of our men."
"I don't think," Patrick O'Neil said, "that we Irishmen drink from
any particular love of liquor, but from good fellowship and
joviality. One can hardly imagine a party of French nobles
inflaming themselves with wine, and singing, as our fellows do.
Frenchmen are gay in what I may call a feeble way--there is no go
in it. There is no spirit in their songs, there is no real
heartiness in their joviality, and the idea of one man playing a
practical joke upon another, the latter taking it in good part,
could never enter their heads, for they are ready to take offence
at the merest trifle.
"As you know, there are certain cabarets told off for the use of
the soldiers of the Brigade. They are allowed to use no others,
and no French troops are allowed to enter these wine shops.
Similarly, there are certain establishments which are almost
exclusively patronized by officers of the Brigade. There is, of
course, no absolute rule here, and we can enter any cabaret we
choose; but it is understood that it is at our own risk, and that,
if we get into trouble there, we are sure to be handled over the
coals pretty sharply, as it is considered that we must deliberately
have gone there with the intention of picking a quarrel. The
cabarets used by the men are all close to the barracks, so that,
in case of a fracas, a guard is sent down to bring all concerned
in it back to the barracks. Fortunately, there is no need for the
places we frequent being so close to the barracks, for it is
understood that anyone who takes too much liquor, outside his own
quarters, brings discredit on the regiment; and it is after we
adjourn to the rooms of one or other of us that liquor begins to
flow freely, and we make a night of it."
"Don't you ever have quarrels among yourselves?"
"Angry words pass, sometimes, but all present interfere at once.
The honour of the regiment is the first point with us all. If men
want to quarrel, there are plenty of French officers who would be
quite ready to oblige them, but a quarrel among ourselves would be
regarded as discreditable to the corps. Consequently, a dispute is
always stopped before it reaches a dangerous point, and if it goes
further than usual, the parties are sent for by the colonel in the
morning, both get heavily wigged, and the colonel insists upon the
matter being dropped, altogether. As the blood has had time to
cool, both are always ready to obey his orders, especially as they
know that he would report them at once to the general, if the
matter were carried further."
"Well, I shall certainly not be likely to get into a quarrel over
wine," Desmond said, "nor indeed, in any other way, unless I am
absolutely forced into it. As to adventures such as you speak of,
I am still less likely to be concerned in them. I hope that, when
we are ordered on service, I shall have a full share of adventures
such as may become a soldier."
O'Neil smiled. "Time will show," he said. "Adventures come without
being sought, and you may find yourself in the thick of one,
before you have an idea of what you are doing. But mind, if you do
get into any adventure and need assistance, you are bound to let
us help you. That is the compact we made, two months ago. We
agreed to stand by each other, to be good comrades, to share our
last sous, and naturally to give mutual aid under all and every
circumstance."
Desmond nodded.
"At any rate, O'Neil, adventures cannot be so common as you
represent, since neither of you, so far, has called upon me for
aid or assistance."
"Have you heard the last piece of court scandal, Kennedy?"
O'Sullivan asked, as the three friends sat down to breakfast
together, a few days later.
"No; what is it?"
"Well, it is said that a certain damsel--her name is, at present,
a secret--has disappeared."
"There is nothing very strange about that," O'Neil laughed.
"Damsels do occasionally disappear. Sometimes they have taken
their fate into their own hands, and gone off with someone they
like better than the man their father has chosen for them;
sometimes, again, they are popped into a convent for contumacy.
Well, go on, O'Sullivan, that cannot be all."
"Well, it is all that seems to be certain. You know that I went
with the colonel, last night, to a ball at the Hotel de Rohan, and
nothing else was talked about. Several there returned from
Versailles in the afternoon, and came back full of it. All sorts
of versions are current. That she is a rich heiress goes without
saying. If she had not been, her disappearance would have excited
no attention whatever. So we may take it that she is an heiress of
noble family. Some say that her father had chosen, as her husband,
a man she disliked exceedingly, and that she has probably taken
refuge in a convent. Some think that she has been carried off
bodily, by someone smitten both by her charms and her fortune. It
is certain that the king has interested himself much in the
matter, and expresses the greatest indignation. Though, as it
would not seem that she is a royal ward, it is not clear why he
should concern himself over it. Some whisper that the king's anger
is but feigned, and that the girl has been carried off by one of
his favourites."
"Why should such a thing as that be supposed?" Desmond asked,
indignantly.
"Well, there is something in support of the idea. If anyone else
were to steal away, with or without her consent, a young lady of
the court with influential friends, he would be likely to pass the
first two years of his married life in one of the royal prisons;
and therefore none but a desperate man, or one so secure of the
king's favour as to feel certain that no evil consequences would
befall him, would venture upon such a step. You must remember that
there are not a few nobles of the court who have ruined themselves,
to keep up the lavish expenditure incumbent upon those who bask in
the royal favour at Versailles. It would be possible that His
Majesty may have endeavoured to obtain the hand of this young lady
for one of his favourites, and that her father may be a noble of
sufficient consequence to hold his own, and to express to His
Majesty his regret that he was unable to adopt his recommendation,
as he had other views for the disposal of her hand.
"The real singularity of the matter is, that no one can tell with
certainty who the missing lady is. Early in the day half a dozen
were named, but as I believe all of these put in an appearance at
the reception in the afternoon, it is evident that, so far as they
were concerned, there were no foundations for the rumour. It may
be taken for certain, however, that her friends are powerful
people, to have been able to impose silence upon those acquainted
with the facts."
"Well, it is impossible to take very much interest in the story,"
Desmond said carelessly, "when we are in ignorance of the very
name of the lady, and of the important point, whether she has
voluntarily gone away either with a lover or to a convent, or
whether she has been carried off against her will. If the latter,
you were talking of adventures, O'Neil, and this would be just the
sort of adventure that I should like; for us three to discover the
maiden, and rescue her from her abductor."
The others both laughed loudly.
"And this is the young officer who, the other day, declared that
he wished for no adventures save those that came in the course of
a campaign, and now he is declaring that he would like to become a
very knight errant, and go about rescuing damsels in distress!"
"I have no idea of carrying it into execution," Desmond said. "It
was merely an expression of a wish. Of course, if the lady in
question went willingly and to avoid persecution, I would rather
help than hinder her; but if she has been carried off by some
ruined courtier, nothing would please me better than to rescue her
from him."
Several days had passed, and at last it was confidently believed
that the missing lady was the daughter of Baron Pointdexter, a
magnate of Languedoc, who had but recently come up to court, on an
intimation from the king that it was a long time since he had been
seen there, and that His Majesty hoped that he would be
accompanied by his daughter, of whose beauty reports had reached
him. It was certain that neither she nor her father had attended
any of the receptions or fetes at Versailles, since the rumour
first spread, although the baron had had a private interview with
the king a few hours afterwards, and had left his chamber with a
frowning brow, that showed that the interview had not been a
pleasant one. He had not again appeared at court, whether in
consequence of the royal command, or not, no one knew.
The baron was one of the richest proprietors in the south of
France. He was a specimen of the best type of the French nobles,
preferring to spend his time among his own wide estates to coming
up to the capital, where his visits had at all times been rare.
During the daytime, Desmond went out but little. When the hours of
drill and exercise were over, he spent some time in visiting the
quarters of the men of his company, making their personal
acquaintance, and chatting freely with them. They were glad to
hear from him about their native country; and, as some of them
came from his own neighbourhood, they took a lively interest in
the news--the first that had reached them for years--of families
with whom they were acquainted. He spent two or three hours in the
afternoons in the salle d'armes of the regiment, or at the schools
of one or other of the maitres d'armes most in vogue, and then
paid visits, with one or other of the officers of the regiment, to
great houses of which they had the entree.
Of an evening he went out, accompanied by Mike Callaghan, and
wandered about the less fashionable part of the town, which
pleased him better than the more crowded and busy quarters.
One evening, he had gone farther than usual, had passed through
the gates, and had followed the road by the banks of the river. As
an officer in uniform, he was able to re-enter the town after the
gates were closed, the rules being by no means strict, as, during
the reign of Louis the 14th, France, though engaged in frequent
wars abroad, was free from domestic troubles.
Presently, he passed a lonely house of some size, standing back
from the road and surrounded by a high wall. As he did so, he
heard a scream in a female voice, followed by angry exclamations
from two male voices, while loudly rose a woman's cries for help.
"There is bad work of some sort going on in there," he said to
Mike. "We had better see what it is all about. Do you go round the
wall by the right, and I will go round by the left, and see if
there is any way by which we can climb over."
They met at the back of the house. The wall was unbroken, save by
the gates in front.
"The wall is too high for us to climb, Mike," Desmond said. "Even
if I stood on your head, I could not reach the top. Let us go
round to the front again."
They returned, and closely scrutinized the gate. It was not so
high as the wall itself, but was fully twelve feet.
"I have got a pistol with me, your honour," Mike said. "I have
seen doors blown in, by firing a gun through the keyhole."
"That would do, if we were sure that there were no bars, Mike; but
the chances are that it is barred, as well as locked. Besides, I
am sure that we should not be justified in blowing in the door of
a private house. It may be that they were the cries of a mad
woman. I would rather get over as quietly as possible."
"Well, sir, I will stand against it, and if you will get on to my
shoulders and put your foot on my head, you will reach the top.
Then, if you lower one end of your sash to me, I can pull myself
up beside you."
"Yes, I think we can manage it that way, Mike. I am convinced that
there is something wrong going on here, and I don't mind taking
the risk of getting into a scrape by interfering. Now do you stoop
a bit, so that I can get on to your shoulder; then you can raise
yourself to your full height. Take off your hat, first. I shall
certainly have to put my foot on your head."
"All right, your honour. Don't you be afraid of hurting me. My
skull is thick enough to stand the weight of two of you."
In a minute, Desmond had his fingers on the top of the gates, drew
himself up, and, moving to the corner, where he could get his back
against the end of the wall, lowered his sash to Mike.
"You are sure I shall not pull you down?"
"I am not sure, but we will try, anyhow."
This was said in a whisper, for there might, for anything he knew,
be two or three men in the garden. Mike took off his boots, so as
to avoid making a noise. Desmond was sitting astride of the gate,
and had his end of the sash over the top of it, and under his leg,
thereby greatly reducing the strain that would be thrown on it,
and then leaning with all his weight on it, where it crossed the
gate. Mike was an active as well as a strong man, and speedily was
by his side.
"Now we will drop down," Desmond said, and, setting the example,
lowered himself till he hung by his hands, and then dropped. Mike
was soon beside him.
"What shall we do next?"
"We will go and knock boldly at the door; but before we do that,
we will unbar the gate and shoot the bolt of the lock. We have no
idea how many men there may be in the house. Maybe we shall have
to beat a retreat."
The lock was shot without difficulty, but the bolts were still
fast, and were not drawn without noise. They pushed back the last
of these, and then opened the gates, which creaked noisily as they
did so.
"They can hardly help hearing that," Desmond muttered; and indeed,
as he spoke, the door of the house opened suddenly, and five men
came out, two of them holding torches. A man, who seemed to be the
leader of the party, uttered an exclamation of fury as the light
fell upon the figures of the two men at the open gate.
"Cut the villains down!" he shouted.
"Stop!" Desmond cried, in a loud voice. "I am an officer of
O'Brien's regiment of foot. I heard a scream, and a woman's cry
for help, and, fearing that foul play was going on, I made my
entry here."
The man, who had drawn his sword, paused.
"You have done wrong, sir. The cries you heard were those of a mad
woman. You had better withdraw at once. I shall report you,
tomorrow, for having forcibly made an entrance into private
premises."
"That you are perfectly at liberty to do," Desmond replied
quietly; "but certainly I shall not withdraw, until I see this
lady, and ascertain from herself whether your story is a true
one."
"Then your blood be on your own head!" the man said.
"At them, men! you know your orders--to kill anyone who attempted
to interfere with us, no matter what his rank."
The five men rushed together upon the intruders.
"Hold the gate, Mike," Desmond said, "and they cannot get behind
us."
They stepped back a pace or two, and drew their swords. The
position was a favourable one, for the two halves of the gate
opened inwards, and so protected them from any but an attack in
front. The leader rushed at Desmond, but the latter guarded the
sweeping blow he dealt at him, and at the first pass ran him
through the body; but the other four men, enraged rather than
daunted by the fall of their leader, now rushed forward together,
and one of them, drawing a pistol, fired at Desmond when within
three paces.
The latter threw his head on one side, as he saw the pistol
levelled. The action saved his life, for it was well aimed, and
the bullet would have struck him full between the eyes. As it was,
he felt a sharp sudden pain, as it grazed his cheek deeply. He
sprang forward, and before the man could drop the pistol and
change his sword from the left hand to the right, Desmond's weapon
pierced his throat. At the same moment, Mike cut down one of his
assailants with his sabre, receiving, however, a severe cut on the
left shoulder from the other.
Paralysed at the loss of three of their number, the remaining two
of the assailants paused, for a moment. It was fatal to one of
them, for Mike snatched his pistol from his pocket, and shot the
man who had wounded him, dead. The other threw down his sword, and
fell upon his knees, crying for mercy.
"Shall I kill him, your honour?"
"No. Fasten his hands behind him, with his own belt; and bind his
ankles tightly together, with that of one of his comrades."
He paused, while Mike adroitly carried out his instructions.
"Now we will see what this is all about," Desmond said. "I don't
suppose that there are any more of them in the house. Still, we
may as well keep our swords in readiness."
Picking up one of the torches that had fallen from their
assailants' hands, and holding it above his head with his left
hand, while his right held his sword ready for action, Desmond
entered the house. The sitting rooms on both sides of the hall
were empty, but, upon entering the kitchen, he found an old woman
crouching in a corner, in the extremity of fear.
"Stand up. I am not going to hurt you," Desmond said. "Lead us, at
once, to the chamber of the lady we heard call out."
The old woman rose slowly, took down a key hanging from a peg,
and, leading the way upstairs, opened a door.
"Keep a watch upon the crone," Desmond said, as he entered.
As he did so, his eye fell upon a girl of some seventeen years
old. She was standing at the window, with her hands clasped. She
turned round as he entered, and, as her eye fell upon his uniform,
she gave a cry of delight.
"Ah, monsieur, you have rescued me! I heard the fight in the
garden, and knew that the good God had sent someone to my aid. But
you are wounded, sir. Your face is streaming with blood."
"'Tis but the graze of a pistol ball," he said, "and needs but a
bowl of water, and a strip of plaster, to put it right. I had
well-nigh forgotten it.
"I am glad, indeed, to have been able to render you this service,
mademoiselle. It was most providential that I happened to come
along the road, and heard your screams and cries for aid; and I
determined to see if any foul business was being carried on here.
What made you call out?"
"I had let myself down from the window, by knotting the bedclothes
together. I was blindfolded, when they carried me in here, and did
not know that the walls were so high all round, but had hoped to
find some gate by which I might escape. There were only the great
gates, and these were locked; and I was trying to draw the bolts
when two of the men suddenly rushed out. I suppose the old woman
came up here, and found the room empty. It was then that I
screamed for help, but they dragged me in, in spite of my
struggles, and one said I might scream as much as I liked, for
there was not a house within hearing, and no one would be passing
anywhere near.
"When he said that, I quite gave up hope. I had believed that I
was in some lonely house, in the suburbs of the city, and I little
thought that my cries could not be heard.
"But where are the men who guarded me?"
"Four of them are dead, mademoiselle, and the other securely
bound. Now, if you will tell me who you are, and where your
friends live, I and my soldier servant will escort you to them."
"My name is Anne de Pointdexter."
Desmond was scarcely surprised, for the care which had been taken
in choosing so lonely a spot for her concealment, and the fact
that an officer and four men should be placed there to guard her,
showed that she must have been regarded as a prisoner of
importance.
"Then I am glad, indeed, to have been the means of rescuing you.
All Paris has been talking of your disappearance, for the past ten
days. The question is, what would you wish done? It is too far to
take you to Versailles tonight, and too late to obtain means of
conveyance."
"There is a carriage in the stables behind the house, and there
are some horses. I cannot say how many, but at night I have heard
them stamping. I suppose the carriage was left here so that they
could remove me to some other place, in case suspicion should fall
upon this house. How many are there of you, monsieur?"
"Only myself, and the trooper you see at the door."
"And did you two fight with five men, and kill four of them!" she
exclaimed, in surprise. "How brave of you, monsieur, and how good
to run such risk, for a person of whom you knew nothing!"
"I knew that it was a woman in distress," Desmond said, "and that
was quite enough to induce two Irishmen to step in, and answer to
her cry for aid. However, mademoiselle, if the carriage and horses
are there, this will get us out of our difficulty. The only
question is, will you start at once, or wait until daylight? We
may be stopped by the patrols, as we approach Versailles, but I
have no doubt that my uniform will suffice to pass us into the
town, where probably your father is still lodging."
"I would much rather go at once," the girl said. "There are others
who come, sometimes at all hours of the night."
"Very well, then, we will see about getting the carriage ready, at
once. If you will come downstairs, we will lock this old woman up
in your room."
This was done at once, and the girl, who was so shaken by her
captivity that she feared to remain for a moment by herself,
accompanied her rescuers to the back of the house. Here, as she
had said, they found a carriage and four horses, two of which
stood ready saddled, while the others were evidently carriage
horses. These were speedily harnessed, and put into the carriage.
"Now, Mike, you had better drive. I will mount one of these saddle
horses and ride alongside. I think, mademoiselle, as the drive
will be a long one, it would be as well that we should put the old
woman in the carriage with you. She will be a companion, though
one that you would not take from choice. Still, your father may
wish to question her, and, indeed, it would be better in many
respects that you should have a female with you."
"Thank you, Monsieur Kennedy,"--for she had already learned his
name--she said gratefully, "it would certainly be much better."
The old woman was therefore brought down, and made to enter the
carriage, and seat herself facing Mademoiselle Pointdexter. Mike
took his seat on the box, and Desmond mounted one of the saddle
horses, and led the other. They had already removed the bodies
that lay in front of the gates.
They had to make a considerable detour round Paris, before they
came down upon the Versailles road. The roads were bad and the
carriage was heavy, and daylight was already breaking when they
entered the town. They had twice been stopped by patrols, but
Desmond's uniform had sufficed to pass them.
Baron Pointdexter had taken up his abode in a large house,
standing in a walled garden in the lower part of the town. When
they reached it, Desmond dismounted and rung the bell. After he
had done this several times, a step was heard in the garden, and a
voice asked roughly, "Who is it that rings at this hour of the
morning?"
Mademoiselle Pointdexter, who had alighted as soon as the carriage
stopped, called out, "It is I, Eustace."
There was an exclamation of surprise and joy, bolts were at once
drawn, and the gate thrown open, and an old servitor threw himself
on his knees as the girl entered, and, taking the hand she held
out to him, put it to his lips.
"Ah, mademoiselle," he said, while the tears streamed down his
cheeks, "what a joyful morning it is! We have all suffered, and
monsieur le baron most of all. He has spoken but a few words,
since you left, but walks up and down the garden as one
distraught, muttering to himself, and sometimes even drawing his
sword and thrusting it at an invisible enemy. He is up,
mademoiselle. He has never gone to his bed since you were
missing."
As he spoke, the door of the house opened, and the baron hurried
out, with the question, "What is it, Eustace?"
Then, as his eye fell on his daughter, he gave a hoarse cry, and
for a moment swayed, as if he would have fallen. His daughter ran
up to him, and threw her arms round his neck.
"Do you return to me safe and well?" he asked, as, after a long
embrace, he stepped back and gazed into her face.
"Quite safe and well, father."
"The Lord be praised!" the baron exclaimed, and, dropping into a
garden seat by his side, he burst into a passion of sobbing.
As soon as he had appeared, Desmond had handed over the old woman
to Eustace.
"She is a prisoner--keep a watch over her," he said. "She can tell
much. We will take the carriage round to a stable, and must then
return at once to Paris, where I must be on duty at seven. Please
inform the baron that I shall do myself the honour of calling,
tomorrow, to enquire whether Mademoiselle Pointdexter has suffered
from the effects of the fatigue and excitement. Express my regret
that I am obliged to leave at once, but I am sure he will have so
much to hear, from his daughter, that it is best they should be
alone together, for a time."
He at once remounted his horse, Mike climbed up on to his seat,
and they drove off, and, knocking up the people at some large
stables, left the carriage and horses there, telling the
proprietors to send to the Baron Pointdexter to know his wishes
regarding it. Then Mike mounted the spare horse, and they started
at full speed for Paris, and arrived at the barracks in time for
Desmond to take his place at the early parade.